


Does it count if the angel you're sinning with is fallen?

by kirakira_nanoda



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Basically PWP, Cum Play, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 20:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakira_nanoda/pseuds/kirakira_nanoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes home from shopping to find Sherlock naked on the couch waiting for John to screw him, oblivious to the fact that John had gone out. The good doctor decides Sherlock needs to start paying attention to when he leaves if only to save himself the pain of sitting with a hard on for half an hour. Of course rough, kinky sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does it count if the angel you're sinning with is fallen?

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at titles and at summaries. It's PWP, just enjoy the porn XD

_Sherlock Holmes will be the death of me,_ John thought to himself, having come home to the sight of his lover sprawled naked on the couch, shamelessly on display and unbelievably hard. This was by no means the first time John had been shocked by his eccentric lover’s behaviour, in fact he half expected to be shocked whenever he came home, but Sherlock had never taken it quite this far before. Christ, what if Mrs Hudson had come in?

 

‘Sherlock...’ John groaned, his lover’s gaze lazily leaving the TV screen to look up at him.

 

‘There you are,’ Sherlock said. ‘Where have you been? I said “let’s have sex” half an hour ago, I’ve been waiting.’

 

John just blinked. ‘I went to the shops, Sherlock... remember the whole “we’re out of milk and baked beans” conversation?’

 

‘Of course,’ Sherlock said as though he was offended John had though he’d forgotten. ‘You droned on and on about how you needed to go shopping.’

 

John looked at Sherlock expectantly but nothing else came. ‘And...?’ John tried to prompt. ‘What happened after that?’

 

‘I said “let’s have sex” and you took half an hour to show up,’ Sherlock said. ‘Normally I don’t mind you making me wait or the time you waste on the apparently _necessary_ foreplay, but you have to admit half an hour is pushing it.’

 

John sighed. ‘No, Sherlock, what happened after I said I needed to go shopping was... I went shopping. I did tell you, made a show of putting my jacket on in front of you, I even gave you a goodbye kiss. You _really_ need to start paying attention to when I leave the flat, if only to relieve yourself from the pain of sitting with a hard on for half an hour.’ John started walking towards the kitchen to put the groceries away, hearing Sherlock get up and shadow him.

 

‘Wait, aren’t you going to fuck me?’

 

John turned to look at him, eyes purposely not travelling down that body to what hung in between those legs. There was no way he could make his argument valid if he was distracted by that cock.

 

‘No, first I’m going to put the shopping away,’ John said, picking up the milk and putting it in the fridge to make his point.

 

Sherlock tilted his head to the side and looked at him. ‘If you’re trying to punish me this is an odd way to go about it. I’ve already been waiting half an hour, making me wait longer seems redundant.’ John ignored him. ‘Please?’ Sherlock tried, tugging on John’s shirt sleeve. ‘I _need_ you.’ John almost dropped the beans at the pang of lust that last sentence caused, Sherlock having turned on _that voice_. ‘I’ve already set everything up,’ Sherlock added, seeing John weaken. ‘Though you may need to prepare me again,’ he finished and John actually did drop the beans on the countertop.

 

‘Jesus, Sherlock… you… already prepared yourself? Jesus.’ John shook his head.

 

‘I had to do _something_ while I waited for you,’ Sherlock replied impatiently. ‘John, please, this is starting to get ridiculous.’

 

John snorted at that. ‘ _Starting_ to? Says the man who has been standing there with a hard on for half an hour? All right, all right,’ John amended, seeing Sherlock’s put out pout. ‘But next time I go out I will require verbal confirmation that you know I am leaving.’

 

‘Yes, yes, fine whatever,’ Sherlock grumbled, starting to push John backwards towards their bedroom. ‘Just fuck me already.’

 

John’s smirk was cut off by Sherlock’s lips, that eager tongue demanding entrance into the good doctor’s mouth before John could even contemplate kissing him back. He got caught up in the whirlwind that was Sherlock’s grabby hands and skilled fingers, and had no choice but to surrender his clothes to their unrelenting tugging. Soon he was as bare as Sherlock but only half as hard, something Sherlock soon rectified with his hot mouth against the sensitive areas of John’s neck, making his smaller lover moan and press himself closer to him.

 

Finally, getting over the initial thrill of letting Sherlock flat out take control of the situation, John started clawing back his dominance. Sherlock had wanted John to _fuck_ _him_ , meaning the ex-army man had to get his lover to submit, and for John that was easy, even when Sherlock was actually _trying_ to resist. John let his hands slide up into Sherlock’s hair, tangling his fingers through that mess of dark curls before yanking harshly, a move that never failed to make Sherlock’s knees go weak, no matter how hard the man had tried to divest himself of that weakness. Sherlock’s breath hitched and he let out a low moan, his fingers digging into John’s shoulders to run his nails down his back. It was his counterattack, but it was no use, he was already at John’s mercy and fell all too easily when John toppled him back onto the mattress.

 

It was annoying the way Sherlock’s hair always fanned out perfectly on the pillows whenever John pushed him down onto the bed, like the laws of the Universe dictated long ago that every move this man made had to be graceful and make him appear even more sinfully angelic. The lust blown pupils and the sultry, begging voice were also the Universe’s way of saying ‘ha! Fuck you, we’ve made this gorgeous creature to spoil other people for you!’ Of course the parted, swollen lips, the subtle movement of hips, and the shameless spreading of those thighs were the work of the devil himself, Sherlock merely taking the gifts the World decided to bestow on him, this one man, and using them to get what he wanted, and right now he wanted John’s cock.

 

‘Hurry up, I told you I’ve been waiting half an hour for this,’ Sherlock said, arching his back in a not so subtle way.

 

‘All right, I get it,’ John said, kissing Sherlock’s temple before moving down to his ear. ‘How do you want it? Hard and fast, or slow and filthy?’ because gentle was never an option when it came to bedding Sherlock, which John didn’t mind because he didn’t have the willpower to make “making love” last for very long with this gorgeous creature before it turned into downright fucking.

 

Sherlock seriously considered the choices, John watching his eyelids flutter as he thought over every possible scenario. ‘I’ve been waiting too long to take it slow,’ he finally said, before licking his lips, ‘But... can you make it hard and fast _and_ filthy?’ those sage eyes turned up to John and begged, John sighing as he smiled and shook his head.

 

‘You don’t ask for much, do you?’ he said, not really complaining. ‘Ok, but you’re going to have to wait for the hard and fast bit because first I’m going to give you the orgasm you’ve been holding back for half an hour using nothing but my hands and mouth, and then, while you’re writhing around in your own mess, too sensitive to touch, I’m going to fuck you, drive you out of your massive mind on pleasure, until it’s my turn to coat you with my seed. Would you like that?’ John asked even though the answer was quite clear from the way Sherlock was clinging to John’s shoulders and trying to rub himself up against his thigh. Sherlock didn’t really bother replying, just moaned and tilted his head to the side, allowing John access to his sensitive neck.

 

John smirked down at him before letting his lips brush over his pulse point, nipping at the warm skin before sucking his mark just underneath his jaw line. Sherlock’s body was riddled with almost ridiculously sensitive areas, each spot seemingly hardwired to make Sherlock’s brain short-circuit. They came in handy when Sherlock couldn’t get out of his head, those spots the best way for John to drive him out of his mind and release him from the confides of his mind palace. Each spot kissed had Sherlock making a different sound and John had amused himself with the idea of being able to play him like some sort of sensual instrument, though neither of them had the patience to try.

 

John slithered his way down Sherlock’s body, sucking the occasional love bite onto his wonderfully mark-able skin before reaching his final destination, blowing gently on the tip of Sherlock’s cock and cooling the rather sizable bead of pre-cum. Sherlock moaned and gripped the bed sheets tighter, trying his best not to reach out and force John’s mouth around his cock. John rewarded him for his self-control, wrapping his lips around the head and lavishing the tip with his tongue, exerting a steady suction. Sherlock writhed beneath John’s mouth, offering a range of encouraging noises as John slowly took in more of him. Breathing through his nose, John remembered the tips Sherlock had given him on ignoring his gag reflex, wanting to impress his lover, and by god if the sounds Sherlock was making was any indication, the man was most definitely impressed. But it had to be more than this, John had promised filthy and simple deep-throating just didn’t cut it.

 

John worked his way up to a pace then switched his mouth for his hand, slick with the lubricant he had fished from the drawer, careful not to miss a beat. Sherlock noticed, of course he did, but he was far more interested in where John’s mouth was headed rather than where it had been. John went down further south, wet, pink tongue slipping out from between his lips and teasing along Sherlock’s perineum, lathering every inch of sensitive skin down there with saliva, and making Sherlock almost unbearably wet. He smelt of freshly bathed skin with just the barest hint of his natural musk, obviously having had a shower as well while he had been waiting for John to turn up and fuck him.

 

John huffed a laugh, making Sherlock twitch at the intimacy of that breath, the detective letting out a breath of his own and spreading his legs a little wider so John could go a little deeper. Not wanting to disappoint, John grabbed Sherlock’s lean thighs and threw them over his shoulders, tilting his hips up and gaining him access to his most intimate areas. Fingers digging lightly into Sherlock’s skin, John let his tongue explore, gliding it between Sherlock’s perfectly rounded arse cheeks before wiggling just the tip into his entrance. Slicking his other hand with the lubricant too, John started toying with Sherlock's balls, cupping them and gently tugging before trailing both slick hands up his shaft, all the while still teasing him with his tongue.

 

For a man who hated repetition, Sherlock was certainly saying John’s name a hell of a lot, fists wrapped so hard in the sheets that he was untucking the sides. John had no mercy to show and with a bold sweep of his tongue he invaded that tight ring of muscle, twirling the tip as deep as he could inside of Sherlock. It helped a lot that Sherlock had already prepared himself, John’s tongue unhindered in its exploration and making it easier for him to moisten the walls of that sinful cavern. That set the man above him wriggling, toes curling with pleasure as a thin sheen of sweat started to form across Sherlock’s brow. John was really working him up and Sherlock was having difficulty stopping his hips from thrusting with each swipe of John’s tongue. He was ready for more but this was all he was getting, and John would make it be enough with all the tricks being with Sherlock had taught him. His hands on Sherlock’s cock were not gentle, massaging the shaft and squeezing the pre-cum out of the tip, extracting groan after groan from the tortured man. He was practically stabbing him with his tongue now too, and Sherlock was loving every rough minute of it, losing all will to remain still and rocking back as best he could to get that slick muscle in him as deep as it would go.

 

Sherlock’s moans started to grow throatier, a clear indication he was getting close and a testament to just how much he had been waiting for this. John let him fall, knowing how rough he was going to be on his gorgeous lover in the next round, and letting Sherlock's orgasm rush in and claim him. Clamping his legs tight around John’s head, Sherlock came, back arched in pleasure and head thrown back into the pillows as his fingers locked into the sheets. John ran his hands through the mess that was steadily building on Sherlock's stomach, trailing slick fingers up his lover’s abdomen and across his chest, tweaking his nipples and making Sherlock gasp while he continued to swirl his tongue in and out of his twitching hole.

 

Eventually slipping those alabaster thighs off his shoulders, John crawled up Sherlock's body, kissing his skin and tasting the seed he had smeared across his flesh. Sherlock was still writhing with the aftershocks of pleasure when John reached his lips, the doctor pushing his tongue deep in Sherlock's mouth as he settled himself between his thighs. John reached down between his own legs, slicking his cock with Sherlock’s release and allowing himself a bit of a wank over the image of his debauched lover as Sherlock looked up at him with begging eyes.

 

‘Now for the hard and fast bit,’ John whispered, barely giving Sherlock any other warning before he was pushing his slickened cock into his lover’s willing body. Sherlock was so wonderfully sensitive after orgasm and it never ceased to amaze John just how easy it was to make him completely lose it, Sherlock already scrambling to get his hold on his lover as John ploughed into him.

 

Sherlock was shameless at the best of times but when he was _this_ sensitive there was nothing more arousing than the way he carelessly threw his legs into the air and gave himself completely over to John’s mercy. He writhed and cursed as his body betrayed him, curling his toes as John pushed him higher and higher. Sherlock thrashed his head on the pillows but John placed his hands on his shoulders and held him down, rendering him unable to move and forcing him into complete submission. John liked this position, using his upper body strength to keep Sherlock pinned to the mattress while his rear end had at it, absolutely pounding into that perfect arse and driving Sherlock wild with pleasure. Sherlock was completely at his mercy like this and John will admit that this kind of power play went straight to his head, or rather straight to his cock.

 

Helpless to John’s rough screwing, Sherlock threw his head back and opened his mouth wide, an endless stream of moans escaping from right down deep in his chest; such filthy prayers spilling out of those angelic lips, and who was John to deny those wishes? He went harder, faster, everything Sherlock wanted until his lover was washed anew with his second wave of pleasure, his body giving up a fight against the strength that was holding him down, his back trying his best to arch.

 

John fucked him hard during his second orgasm, getting Sherlock close to screaming his name with each rough thrust into his pliant body, only easing off when it started to become too much for his lover to take. Sherlock was a complete mess by the time John showed mercy, panting and barely able to keep his arms locked around John’s neck, or his eyes open for longer than two seconds.

 

John himself was close but he wasn’t quite there yet, and one look at his debauched lover told he wouldn’t be getting any help from him. Gently he pulled out, making Sherlock whimper and try to protest, John simply shutting him up by running his hand through the mess on his stomach and pushing his slickened fingers into his mouth.

 

‘Fuck,’ John breathed as Sherlock started sucking eagerly on those digits, licking away every last drop of seed, his tongue enthusiastic despite the fact that John knew he was about ready to pass out. How it was that Sherlock could still look like the most heavenly creature while doing wicked things that would make the Devil Himself blush was not for John to even _try_ and comprehend, simply blaming the Universe once more as he snuck his hand down to wank at the sight. Sherlock, however, seemed to have other plans, pulling John’s fingers out of his mouth and attempting to sit up, reaching for John’s weeping arousal.

 

‘John, please, let me… I want to…’ rather than trying to find the words in his scrambled brain, Sherlock gently shoved John’s shoulders, pushing him up onto his feet before sinking on to the floor in front of him. It was so obvious what Sherlock wanted but that didn’t mean John gave it to him, the ex-army soldier still so very much in control here. He fisted his hand in Sherlock’s hair and stopped him short of wrapping his lips around his cock, Sherlock letting out a soft whimper as his head was yanked back and John’s free hand ran his fingernails down his neck, leaving behind wonderful red marks before swiping his thumb across Sherlock's lower lip. Again, John was mean and took his hand away before Sherlock could suck any of his digits into his mouth, torturing him with the lack of oral stimulation he so clearly desired.

 

John wrapped his free fist around his own arousal and started to pump, letting his hips push forward so every stroke brought his cock close enough to brush against Sherlock's lips. The man was struggling against the hand in his hair but John as not letting up, the power play being able to control Sherlock like this rapidly bringing him towards his own explosive end.

 

Sherlock started making those sinful sounds again, kissing the tip of John’s cock whenever it came into his reach and sucking away whatever pre-ejaculate was beading at the head, contenting himself with the little he was given. Sherlock’s eyes never left his and it was that compelling gaze that finally pushed John over the edge. His fists tightened around his cock and in Sherlock’s hair respectively, yanking his lover’s head back as he spilt his seed across his skin.

 

John felt like he was sinning, he really did; painting Sherlock’s angelic features with his own seed, Sherlock writhing and begging for more like the fallen angel he was.

 

Sherlock was allowed to taste the last few drops John had to give, John sliding the tip of his cock along Sherlock’s tongue but not allowing him to wrap his lips around the shaft. Sherlock may not care where that cock had been mere minutes ago but John certainly did, and besides, teasing him like this was much more fun.

 

Eventually he managed to drag his poor lover to bed, the doctor ordering a couple hours kip to restore their energy, hoping to ignore the aches and pains that was his body’s way of trying to tell him he was getting too old this. John was sure nobody could really quite keep up with Sherlock and he thought he was doing a damned good job of it thank you very much, and the fact that he didn’t wake up from his quick nap before supper until the following morning was not related in any way to their epic shag.

 

John was eventually awoken by his senses being assaulted by the rather strong smell of cinnamon, opening his eyes to see Sherlock up and dressed and perched over him brandishing a paper bag from the bakery down the street.

 

‘Cinnamon swirl?’ Sherlock asked, forgoing the “good morning” and ignoring John’s confused look.

 

‘You went to the bakery?’ was all John managed to get out, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

 

‘Yes, John,’ Sherlock drawled in that mocking tone that he held especially for when John felt the need to state the obvious. ‘I did tell you. Were you not listening?’ Sherlock continued, unable to keep the smirk off his face. John groaned. Sherlock hadn’t taken what he said yesterday seriously.

 

‘I was asleep, you twat, that doesn’t count!’ John argued.

 

Sherlock shrugged. ‘You were awake enough to tell me to piss off. That counts as verbal confirmation that you knew I was leaving. Really, John, I did meet all the requirements you yourself put in place. You’re hardly setting a good example,’ Sherlock finished his teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye as he started nibbling on his cinnamon swirl.

 

Causing mischief and wrecking havoc, John decided were the reasons his fallen angel had fallen, shaking his head as he took the pre-offered pastry. ‘Youwill be the death of me,’ John said, letting his own smirk taint his lips. ‘But by hell what a way to go.’


End file.
